


Fearless on my breath

by Jepshe



Series: Just stay safe [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Post-War, Reunions, Smut, WW2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jepshe/pseuds/Jepshe
Summary: Lyanna. He had carried the image of her, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her lips, he had carried all of those with him through all the years and battles, thinking it would all get better once he could just have her near him.He raises his eyes to the sky, looking at the birds flying across the blue, remembering how he had watched the birds long ago, before the war, when he had only dreamed of flying himself."Lyanna said we'd wait until I came back. But I'm back now, and —""And she's been waiting, not knowing if you were going to come back," Arya reminds him.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Lyanna Mormont/Rickon Stark
Series: Just stay safe [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844116
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	Fearless on my breath

**Author's Note:**

> I swore I had no more story to tell for Rickon and Lyanna after that moment in Malta, but somehow I ended up writing a oneshot close to 10k.
> 
> This is a post war story with some Gendrya in there too, because I just had to write a glimpse of them, too, following that promise of going to the North. For both of these couples the events of earlier parts of this series are heavily hinted so if you haven't read those you might want to do that first.
> 
> The name of this chapter is from Teardrop by Massive Attack.

**July 1945**

The telephone only rings a couple of times before his brother picks up. That's fortunate, for Rickon only has a few minutes to talk and his mother would have been crying too much for him to get any message through in those minutes, of that he's sure. 

Bran's voice, however, shows barely a hint of surprise upon hearing Rickon's voice for the first time in years. 

"I just arrived and I'm getting on the train to London. I'll try to call you from there but I will be coming home tomorrow," Rickon tells him quickly. 

Bran's answer is calm. 

"You better come straight here, no one's in London now, even Sansa came for father's birthday."

"Actually…" 

He's about to explain it wasn't really Sansa he was planning on meeting, but Bran beats him to it. 

"Lyanna is not there either, she's been at her mother's house for a month now."

Rickon huffs out a breath, his mind quickly rearranging the plans he's been making since the moment he started his journey back home. 

"Okay then, I'll take the first train there."

"I'll ask someone to pick you up from the station," Bran promises, "And I'll give Lyanna a call too, let her know you're in England." 

"Thanks."

He rushes to the train, his heartbeat picking up as he gets in, thoughts of Winterfell mixing with the thrill of seeing Lyanna again.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


She's sitting at the bench near the pond when her ears pick up the distant sound of a car engine. It's easy to hear a car arriving from this spot and that's exactly why she had positioned herself here. She had been expecting that sound, or hoping, more like, since there was no promise, just her wish and the strong feeling she had that he would be coming to meet her. 

Lyanna stands up, looking over the shrubs at the car on the long driveway. She doesn't recognise the car, but she wouldn't recognise anyone's car except her mother's, and the car approaching is not that one, which is no surprise. Her mother had left only an hour earlier to visit a friend and Lyanna doesn't expect her to be back for at least two more hours. Almost everyone else is gone too, there's only the gardener and he's nowhere to be seen, working somewhere further from the house.

Good timing.

Bran's call yesterday had been equally well timed. Her mother had been outside picking some roses and Lyanna had been the one to answer the telephone, so her mother hadn't been there to witness the shock when Bran told her Rickon was in the train headed to Winterfell.

"Don't expect him there tonight though, there's no way our mother will let him leave right away."

Bran's voice had been happy, but Lyanna hadn't been able to say anything more than a quick thank you, stunned by all the feelings of surprise, excitement and relief.

The car is too far for her to see the driver, but it comes closer and closer and her heartbeat picks up. 

It's hard to see the driver even when the vehicle pulls into a stop because of the sunshine reflecting from the windows and she waits, feeling paralyzed, standing at the edge of the grass, watching as the driver's door opens. 

The tall figure that steps out, looking to the front door, is not exactly as she remembers, but it is definitely him. His head is turned toward the house, like he's planning his walk to the door and it's clear he hasn't noticed her. Lyanna just watches him for a couple of seconds before calling to him.

"Rickon."

Her voice is not loud but it reaches him easily in the still air and calm of the bright day, making him turn around. He sees her, stopping for a second until he slams the car door shut. She's already hurrying towards him and he meets her in front of the car. 

They stop a couple of steps away from each other, just staring for a moment. Then the spell seems to break and just like that she's in his arms, squeezing him tight before she pulls back to look at him close up. His hands cradle her face and he leans in, pressing his lips on hers, in the way that is so him, so them, the all-consuming emotion that she's only ever felt with Rickon, about Rickon.

  
  


"Hi," he breathes out.

"Hi," she echoes, and neither of them seem to know what else to say for a moment.

He swallows, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Oh my god Lyanna I —" he mutters, still sounding breathy, squeezing his eyes shut. "You have no idea how much I've waited for this."

"Yeah?" 

"Yes," he chuckles, and he kisses her again, short sloppy kisses, like he's trying to restrain himself but can't help doing it.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," she admits after a while and he leans back to smile at her.

"Well I had something to do didn't I?"

Rickon looks at her like she's missing something totally obvious. His hand leaves the back of her head and she sees him reach for the pocket of his jacket. And then he's holding a ring in front of her.

"You told me to bring this to you when I got back, remember?" he says. 

As if she could have forgotten.

"So if you still would have it…" He shrugs. "Or, shit, sorry, I guess I should do this properly…"

He runs his hand through his hair. 

"So – " 

She shakes her head, stopping him with a peck on his lips.

"Shut up. Of course I'll have it."

"Good," Rickon mutters against her lips, "I didn't have anything fancy prepared for you."

He gives her another chaste kiss before holding her hand, raising it so he can see her fingers.

"This is the hand, right? I really have no idea how to do this."

The laughter bubbles from somewhere deep within her, mixing with the sob that escapes from her mouth.

"Just put it on my finger, silly."

And he does, kissing her knuckles once he's done and then pressing another searing kiss to her mouth.

Lyanna angles her head, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to brush against hers. His hands have moved to her waist and he pulls her closer. 

"Oh my god how much I missed you," he says, his voice low, when their lips part for a second and his mouth moves to her cheek and then on the dip below her ear. His lips are moving lower on her neck and she needs to stop this before it gets totally out of hand. 

She pushes him away from her just enough to look into his eyes. 

"We can't do this here." 

"Well let's get to somewhere we can," he replies, his hands never stilling, and the way they brush her skin makes it hard to think. 

"Can we go in?" 

She hums in response.

"Is that a yes?" 

He's chuckling, and it makes her smile too. 

"Yes," she tells him, "Come on."

  
  


Lyanna takes his hand, leading him to the house. When she looks at him, following a step behind her, she sees him smiling wide, his face bright and full of excitement and she knows her face is the same. 

She walks him to her room upstairs, locking the door behind them just to make sure. Rickon's standing close but she doesn't have much time to analyze the way he eyes her, so obviously needing to have her, before he pulls her closer. She lets him, simply following his lead for a minute. She just clings on to his neck, savoring the way his tongue slides in her mouth again and his hands roam her back.

But she snaps back to action when he starts opening the buttons of her dress, and her own hands move quickly on the front of his shirt. Once she's done, she tugs his undershirt from his trousers, sliding her fingers under it, letting her nails scrape his skin.

"If you keep doing that I won't last a minute, not with where I've been the last few years," Rickon mutters. 

Lyanna answers by moving her hands to the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, eyes dark as he watches her, fingers already working to get rid of his pants.

She walks backwards to her bed and he follows, breathing so hard it feels like it's the only thing she can hear — that and her own breathing, as she moves to lay down and he crawls over her.

She can feel how unsteady his fingers are, shaking with what she guesses is want and urgency and probably some other feelings too as his hands move all over her, never staying anywhere for long. It makes him clumsy in a way she doesn't remember him being, fumbling with her bra until she helps him take it off, calming him with her hands on either side of his face and her forehead pressed against his.

"I missed you," she whispers and he breathes out long and hard. He nods and kisses her, so deep she thinks her lips might bruise but this is not the moment to care about something like that. 

She takes off both of their underwear, with fingers steadier than his even though she's not sure she's any less a mess of emotions than he is and she brushes her fingers in his hair as he moves on top of her.

It's quick, his movements desperate, and she lets him have his fill, knowing how much he wants this, and he comes fast, a low voice between a grunt and a moan releasing from his mouth as he does, his face burying in her neck for a moment as he catches his breath.

He seems to come to his senses though, after he slides out of her, and his hand moves in between her thighs. She's so wound up by it all it doesn't take much, his fingers have barely pressed on to her before she's moaning, moving herself against his touch. There's a faint thought in her mind that the window is open and that maybe she should keep quiet or at least close the window, but there are not many things in the world that could make her get off the bed so she doesn't.

"I love you," Rickon whispers, forehead resting on her temple and she might say it back if she could form words at the moment.

It's his low voice and the way the air feels on her face as he speaks that does her in. She's been hearing that voice in her head for all these years, alone in this bed or in another one in London, but it's so much better to be able to actually hear it.

There's a second round, longer and a little bit calmer, leaving them sweaty and blissful, lying entangled together on her bed. They speak in quiet voices, he tells her about his journey home and she recounts what's been happening in her life for the past couple of months.

The light breeze from the open window makes a chill run down her back, but she can't be bothered to get any clothes on, she just snuggles closer to Rickon, letting the heath of him warm her. 

"It's too big," he notes, fiddling with her fingers, seeing the stone of the ring having fallen to the underside of her hand.

"Just a little bit. We can have it fixed," Lyanna tells him, "I can wear another ring to keep it in place until we do."

"I didn't even think about the size," he admits, sheepish.

"The ring is not that important, Rickon, you know that. I love it, but it's not that important."

There's a faint noise from outside and Lyanna sits up enough to see a car arriving. 

"Oh my god that's mother, get your clothes on." 

She almost slaps Rickon because of the laugh that escapes him since this situation really doesn't feel funny at all to her. She jumps off the bed, picking up pieces of clothing from the floor, handing some of them to him and pulling her own ones on faster than she thinks she ever has. 

"Hurry now! There's no way she'll let me come with you tonight if she finds you undressed in my room."

"I thought we were adults," he mumbles through the undershirt he's pulling over his head. 

"Doesn't matter what we are, if you don't want her despising you, you get your clothes on fast."

Lyanna has already got her dress on and as soon as she has slipped into her shoes, she opens the door, throwing Rickon his shirt.

She pushes him down the stairs and into the library.

"Do something to that hair," she mutters hurriedly while her fingers work on the buttons of her dress.

She rushes to the hallway, trying to smooth down her own hair, hearing her mother call from the front of the house.

"Lyanna!" 

"I'm here," she calls back and meets her mother at the hall. 

"Whose car is that on the driveway?" 

"Rickon's." 

"Rickon's? As in Rickon Stark?" 

"Yes Rickon Stark," she answers exasperated, "Or well, his brother's. He came to say hello."

Her mother raises her brows but whatever question she might have had Lyanna will never know because Rickon chooses that moment to appear. 

He extends his hand to her mother, saying his hellos with his most charming smile, the one Lyanna remembers he used to use years ago in formal gatherings or when talking with his mother's friends. Like he's the perfect young gentleman, a good boy from a good family. If she weren't busy making sure his clothes are on properly she would roll her eyes at it. 

"I was planning on stealing Lyanna for the night, to have dinner with my family. You'd be welcome to join us, I'm sure my parents would be happy to see you."

Her mother's face twists just the slightest bit and Lyanna knows it means she's feeling awkward.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude. And isn't it a bit last minute for you too, Lyanna? How were you planning to get back home?" 

"She can stay the night of course," Rickon answers for her, all relaxed and smiling. 

Maege Mormont is looking thoroughly confused by now. 

"Isn't that... What would your parents think of her showing up without any announcement?" 

"They'll love to have her." 

Rickon clears his throat a bit, meeting Lyanna's eyes. He tilts his head towards her mother, just slightly, as if suggesting something and it finally clicks in her head. 

"Oh."

Rickon just smiles, waiting for her to speak the words. Lyanna bites her lip, feeling weird about it all the sudden. 

"Rickon, actually, uh, he asked me to marry him."

She glances quickly at her mother, seeing her surprise, but turns back to Rickon as he speaks again. 

"And she said yes." 

He emphasizes the last word, smiling at her, appearing to enjoy how flustered she is. 

The cheeky boy, she thinks, he's still in there, no matter how the war may have changed him. She stops herself before she can say one of the comebacks that come to her mind, saving those for when they are not in front of her mother. 

"Yes, I _accepted_ ," she says, making sure Rickon knows the deliberate choosing of her words, as if he had needed to really plead his case. He chuckles as she raises her hand to show her mother the ring. 

She feels his touch, settling on her back, as if telling about the engagement has changed the whole situation. And he's standing right next to her, so close, not shy about making it clear they are a couple now. 

Lady Mormont is obviously in a loss of words, but being the woman she is, she gathers herself quickly, and her smile is a genuine one. 

"That's wonderful," she says as she pulls Lyanna in for a hug. 

"Truly, wonderful news," she repeats as she releases Lyanna and turns to Rickon who seems to know exactly what to do as he leans down to give the lady a polite peck on the cheek. 

  
  
  


"What did you and mom talk about while I was changing?" she asks Rickon in the car, when it's just the two of them.

"Nothing much. She just asked me how long I've been back and how my parents are doing."

"No inquisition?"

"Your mother's scary but I think she actually likes me."

Lyanna rolls her eyes.

"Of course she likes you. And I know she can be intimidating but have you met your mother?"

"I have in fact. But don't worry, she likes you as well," Rickon laughs, stroking her thigh quickly before changing the gear.

"Let's hope so," she mumbles, straightening the hem of her skirt, looking out of the window, wondering what the night will bring.

"So everyone's there?"

Rickon nods.

"Everyone except Jon. Sansa came from London, and Arya and Gendry are staying for the weekend, too."

"Oh, I heard they moved back up North."

"They finally got married. But don't congratulate Arya or she'll get weird about it. She says she only did it to stop mom from nagging, although I think it was about Gendry too."

"Are they still the same as ever?" Lyanna asks, remembering how the two had seemed inseparable before the war, always together no matter how many rumours it caused. 

"Pretty much. I don't know what happened to them exactly, but Bran says they're overly protective of one another now. They keep to themselves a lot and I don't know, they are just always looking out for one another, trying to make sure the other one is alright."

"And your parents approve? I remember your mom not being too happy about the way they were and all of it."

"I think she's happier now that they're married. It's better than them just living together at least, especially with everything else now."

Lyanna is distracted from asking what that means as she catches a glimpse of Winterfell castle between the trees and she feels her anxiousness rising.

  
  
  


Lady Stark welcomes them at the door and it almost seems that she has been waiting for them, or Rickon at least. Her eyes seem to take no time at all to find Lyanna's finger and her expression turns into a pleased one as her gaze moves to Rickon who blushes immediately. But he looks pleased as well, as he takes Lyanna's hand.

"I see congratulations are in order," Catelyn Stark starts, but stops as there's a commotion on the stairs

"You're all dressed up," Rickon teases Arya who is walking down, wearing a loose dress. She looks mostly the same as ever but as she steps closer and swats Rickon's arm Lyanna notes her features look softer somehow. The smirk is one that Lyanna remembers though and she realises it's pretty much identical to the one that Rickon is currently wearing

"Had to humour mom a little bit."

"You look lovely," Gendry says as he comes to join them, standing close to Arya, placing his hand around her. He gives Arya the softest smile Lyanna can imagine, and she gets an idea what Rickon meant with them seeming to be constantly protecting each other.

It's a bit intimidating, meeting Rickon's entire family like this, and the thought of being there because she's about to join that family doesn't make it any easier.

But luckily Bran's there too, smiling a conspiratory smile as Sansa pushes his wheelchair into the front hall. They have exchanged letters and talked on the phone, but it's been a long time since they have actually met, so Lyanna goes straight to him, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek before straightening her back to meet Lord Stark who walks to the hallway with their eldest son, appearing surprised to see Lyanna.

"Oh, I didn't realise we had guests."

Lyanna feels Rickon probe for her hand and turns her palm so he can hold it.

"Sorry dad," Rickon says, not sounding too apologetic, "I know this was supposed to be your birthday party but I think we should also celebrate the fact that me and Lyanna just got engaged."

He looks so excited, like a little kid, beaming at her and everyone else. And he looks proud as well — of himself and she thinks it might be of her too. It makes her want to kiss him, right there and then, but she resists the urge, still feeling a little awkward with his whole family there.

Lord Stark doesn't mind in the least, he tells them, giving Rickon a hug and squeezing Lyanna's hand. Sansa squeaks while Arya and Gendry congratulate them in a more calm manner and when Lyanna catches Bran's eye she thinks this didn't come as a surprise to him. Robbs eyebrows are raised, and as Lady Stark starts ushering them towards the dining room, taking Lyanna by the arm as if she is the guest of honor, she can see Robb shoving Rickon's shoulder, whispering something that makes them both laugh. It reminds her that she hasn't told her own sisters about any of this yet. 

These are the people I'll be spending the rest of my life with, _they_ are going to be my family she realises suddenly. It's a weighty realisation, and tonight seems to be filled with those.

  
  
  


The dinner is delicious and the Stark family is as lively as ever. It almost feels like before the war with everyone there after years of parties and dinners with all the young men missing.

Lyanna has been expecting some sort of interrogation at least so it's not much of a surprise as Lady Starks turns to her, looking at her intently.

"Lyanna, I seem to remember your mother telling me you were planning on going to the university this year, is that still the plan?"

She only has time to nod before Sansa speaks up too.

"When's the wedding going to be? Are you getting married before the term starts?" 

Lyanna looks at Rickon, silently asking for help.

"We just got engaged today Sansa, we have no idea," Rickon says, rolling his eyes, not appearing at all bothered by the question or the topic.

His mother though seems to want a more detailed answer.

"But surely you want to get married soon, don't you? If you could wait to have the wedding sometime around christmas you'd have plenty of time to find a house - you know Rickon your father and I will be happy to help you with that as much as with any housing you'd need while you study. And Lyanna would have time to get your home ready for your liking so you could get settled in before the spring term…"

"I'd love to help," Sansa cuts in, starting an excited list of things to choose for the house and arrangements for a wedding Lyanna hadn't paid one thought before this moment.

"I don't know if we need a house just yet," Lyanna tries to argue as nicely as she can because Rickon is still not saying anything. Lady Stark's face doesn't even flinch as she smiles.

"You should get a nice house so it will be ready for when the children come."

Lyanna nearly spits out her sip of wine.

"Maybe that's getting a bit ahead of things, mom?" Arya voices from beside her, probably having noticed Lyanna's reaction.

"What's so wrong with it? They're getting married, it's only natural. I'm sure Maege would love another grandchild as much as I would."

Lyanna swallows what's left of her wine, trying to send Rickon another look to make him get the message, but Rickon is just chewing away, unbothered.

"We haven't discussed the details yet," Lyanna manages to say, keeping her tone polite enough and luckily Arya starts a lengthy explanation about a problem with her chimney, diverting the conversation enough for the moment at least.

  
  
  


She knows to expect the knock, would have been surprised if it didn't come, in fact. Rickon would not be Rickon, if he wasn't sneaking into her room as soon as the house has quieted down. She had no doubt he'd do it and didn't bother to lock the door.

"You shouldn't be here," she still tells him as he slides in quietly, with the skill of someone who has a fair bit of experience of this sort of thing. _We_ have a fair bit of experience of this sort of thing, Lyanna reminds herself.

But it doesn't help to calm down her feelings at all, she feels too unsettled. Rickon doesn't notice it though. He walks straight to her, nuzzling his face in her neck, letting his lips brush the side of her face as his arms go around her. He's trying to turn her around, his lips moving closer to her mouth, but she stops him.

"We shouldn't do this."

"It's okay," Rickon assures her. "They're all asleep and I locked the door."

"That's not what I meant," she says, pushing them apart.

Rickon looks confused.

"What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? You don't know what's the matter? After that dinner, all that talk about weddings and children and…"

She shakes her head. How can he not get this?

"That was just mom getting excited. And Sansa loves weddings, she doesn't mean anything," Rickon shrugs.

"I'm not going to start arranging some huge event."

"We'll let them fuss with the wedding, what does it matter if they want to think about the flowers and invitations and all that stuff, let them do it, we'll just show up and we won't have to worry about a thing."

"Oh my god Rickon I'm not doing that," she tells him, annoyed.

"Well we can have a smaller wedding too if you want."

"It's not just the wedding, did you not hear all that about a house and children?"

"Well we do need to live somewhere while we study, don't we?"

She stares at him for a second, not quite believing what she just heard. There's a tiny voice in her head telling her he probably didn't mean it like that, but she can't help getting more and more annoyed by his demeanour.

"Is that your plan, just let them decide and pay for everything and then I'll start popping kids while you study and do what you like?"

"When did I say that was my plan?" 

Rickon is starting to sound frustrated by now, but it only makes her more tired.

"Well you kind of seemed to be saying you're fine with all of that happening, the way you let them go on about it."

"I just said we need a place to live."

"And did you even ask me when I would like to get married?"

Her voice is way too high by now and she feels unable to control it anymore.

"I just assumed…"

"Yes, yes, you assumed I'd just go with it all. You weren't even there after the dinner when they started again because you were out with Robb, having cigars or whatever."

He had done that and she didn't like it. It's her he should sneak out to smoke with, that's what they've always done, and she doesn't want to become the boring spouse who's left inside to chat about flowers and children and whatever women are supposed to talk about in formal events.

"Lyanna…"

"No, Rickon! I don't want to talk about it now."

"Alright. We won't talk about it now. Come on, let's get to bed."

She closes her eyes.

"I think you should go to your own room."

Rickon turns around, already having walked to her bed.

"If you fall asleep here you won't be the first one in the house to wake up and I don't want to have that conversation with your mother over breakfast."

"Fine," Rickon huffs and she can see the way he closes up. 

"Rickon, don't be like this."

"I'm not being like anything. You told me you don't want to talk and you don't want me here, so I'm leaving. Sleep well."

He closes the door carefully behind him and Lyanna feels like screaming — but of course she can't even scream here, the beautiful room feeling suffocating all the sudden. For a second she considers running after him, but no, there's no way they can solve this mess tonight.

It's been a long day, filled with too many emotions. Solving anything needs to wait.

  
  
  


The morning feels awkward. Everyone greets Lyanna happily at the breakfast table, Lady Stark quickly making sure she has been happy with her room and that her plate is filled with everything she likes. Rickon is absent, though, sleeping late. When he arrives, he sits across from her, his eyes downcast, with only a mumbled good morning directed to the entire table.

Lyanna has been sitting next to Bran, discussing a book they both had read recently, but the conversation stops as both of them take in Rickon. From the corner of her eye she can see Bran casting a look in her direction, obviously noticing something is going on.

"Rickon darling, try to remember your manners," Lady Stark only says. "We've all nearly eaten already."

But she helps Rickon get all the food, even bending down to kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair before she walks away to get to her chores.

When Rickon finally looks across the table Lyanna tries to give him a smile, just a little offering of peace, because no matter what, it feels unbearable to see him like this. And she really, really does not want to sort through this mess in front of his family, so she hopes he could at least pretend a little better, god knows he knows how to do that.

All of this, everything, is making her anxious and all she wants is for him to make it a little easier for her. But it doesn't seem like he gets that at all sulking there like a little kid, making it all worse.

"Would you come help me in the library, Lyanna?" Arya asks her. "Gendry's carrying some things down from the attic but if he happens to see me climb a ladder I'll never hear the end of it."

Lyanna guesses that's not the only reason Arya's asking her — she's had the feeling the entire family is anxious to get to know her. But anything is better than sitting here, so she agrees.

"Are you tired?" Arya asks her conversationally as they walk into the library, and Lyanna starts moving the ladder to the right spot. 

Lyanna shrugs. 

"The Stark family dinners can be a lot to get used to, trust me I have some experience on being in the line of fire, so to speak."

"It was okay. Everyone has been nice." 

Well, they've meant it nicely, at least. Arya hums, like she knows what Lyanna's not saying.

"I assume it would be a little overwhelming, all of it, when Rickon just got back and you just met again yesterday."

"Yeah," she admits, thinking of how to phrase it. "It's just that we haven't really had time to talk it all through, you know? And I'm not sure Rickon actually thought too much of the realities, he just thought once he got back it would all work out on it's own." 

"He's a bit of an idiot sometimes, that little brother of mine, but he obviously adores you. For what it's worth, I think most of the boys have been the same when they've returned."

Lyanna bites her lip, not knowing what to say. She has the feeling Arya wouldn't judge her, but she's still Rickon's sister. Apparently, Arya's good at reading her thoughts.

"He may be my brother, but I won't tell you to just do what he asks. You decide what you want and then tell him. If you need to think about it or if you need some time then he will just have to accept it — and I'm sure he will accept it, it's not like he cares about keeping up the appearances too much."

The way Arya says it, it sounds like she really gets it, but Lyanna wishes so much it was one of her own sisters she was talking to, no matter how kindly Arya is looking at her.

"Mom's really happy to have you in the family, you know that, don't you? That's not just her being polite. You and Rickon are the match everyone is happy about."

Exactly. She knows they are, but it feels like it only makes it all worse, puts bigger expectations on them, and Lyanna has no interest in living her life according to some pompous expectations.

"That's not why we're — we don't care about that." 

"I know. I don't think anyone thinks that, we all know Rickon doesn't care one bit, never has. But I also know something about choosing the person your parents don't want you to, and I think it might make a lot of things easier when everyone is approving from the beginning."

"It's still not their life," Lyanna says, quietly. 

Arya watches her, nodding.

"No, it's not."

  
  
  
  


Rickon finds her in the garden, sitting under the tall oak tree. Lyanna feels tired, like she's gone through a lifetime's worth of emotions since that phone call from Bran. 

"I need to go home, can you drive me to the station?"

Rickon chuckles nervously. 

"Station? Don't be silly, I'll drive you home." 

"The train is fine, Rickon, it's only an hour. I'll call mother to pick me up or I'll walk home." 

"I'll drive you, Lyanna," he says, like he's pleading, and she can't say no to him. 

The drive is quiet. She sees Rickon taking a breath and opening his mouth many times, like he's about to speak but he never does. The only thing she can hear as he pulls the car to a stop in front of her mother's house is the rustling of the gravel. 

"Lyanna."

He sounds desperate, like he's about to cry, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him sound like that. 

"Will you keep the ring though?" 

The lump rises in her throat so fast she feels like she's choking, her chest suddenly tight. 

His voice is quiet and his words even and she's not sure if he's pleading her or if it's some kind of ultimatum, if he's telling her she shouldn't with the way she's acting, that he doesn't want to give it to her if she's not accepting everything that's been discussed. 

Maybe Arya was wrong, how well can she really claim to know her brother when he's been gone for so long? Maybe he does want a wife that will be happy staying home, maybe he wants kids right away, maybe he wants something like what his parents have. 

"Would you rather have it back?" she asks carefully, the fingers of her right hand touching the ring, fiddling with it like she's been doing since yesterday. She's not used to the feel of it just yet, but the thought of giving it away… 

"No, of course not," he sighs, his hand grabbing hers, like he's trying to stop her from taking the ring off. 

She looks at their hands, the way his fingers cover hers. She thought of this, so many times she wished she could just hold his hand, feel the warmth of his skin, have him next to her. And a part of her wants nothing more than to tell him to forget everything she's said since last night and just hold on to him. But she can't do that. 

"I need some time Rickon, just a little bit of time to think."

"Alright," he says, although she thinks he's pretty far from that. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Rickon can't sleep. It's too quiet, there's too much space, sleeping alone in a room after years of sharing quarters with many others. There's too much room for thinking. Now, with nothing threatening him constantly, with no need to be alert and ready to jump into action at a moment's notice, his brain finds time to dwell on the things he has been too busy to think of. The sounds of a battle and the look of it from above, the way a plane wheezed and whizzled when it went down, the way it made the ocean splash when it hit the surface, the tapping of fire into the metal, the peeping of the engines and the frantic yelling of his observer and wireless operator. 

When he isn't haunted by those thoughts, there's only one thing in his mind as he waits through the slow hours of the night: Lyanna.

She used to be the thought that chased away all the ones he didn't want to think of, the escape he needed from it all. He's long lost count of the hours he has spent thinking of her, dreaming of the things they would do once he just got back. But now the thought of her doesn't bring him any comfort, it only brings him the depressing realisation of how he had messed it all up in less than twenty four hours.

The next day Rickon doesn't really feel like doing much, but leaving the house sounds like a good idea. He decides going to see Arya's house is the perfect distraction. Besides, he knows he won't have to pretend with Arya, he can be as moody and gloomy as he likes. And Arya won't pester him about weddings and formal announcements or anything of that sort - or tell him he should know what he wants to study or how he plans to make a living. 

The drive to Arya and Gendry's house takes longer than Rickon expected and he needs to leave his car a small way from the house, the last stretch of the road looking way too muddy for the car. As he hikes up the road to the cottage he has a new understanding of why Arya told him to wear 'smart shoes'.

His sister is working in the garden, painting a chair. She stands up to give him a hug.

"Welcome to my castle."

Rickon eyes the place, taking in the garden that's growing wildly in every direction and the buildings that look like they've seen many winter storms.

"What are you guys even doing here, in the middle of nowhere? Doesn't this cottage have like a million things that need to be fixed? That roof looks like it leeks." 

"Oh, it leeks so bad," Arya answers him with a laugh. "We love it here, we're fixing it little by little."

"But you could have had something closer to Winterfell, couldn't you? Like something… Nice." 

Arya frowns at him.

"Oh my god Rickon, don't be such a snob. We wanted to have our own peace. Not all of us are so into having 'something nice' as you put it."

"So I'm a snob for liking somewhere that's not muddy all the time? Sorry but I think I'm allowed to be that much snobbish after the places I've been in the last few years."

His sister seems to hear all the meaning in his words, and she nods as she closes the can of paint and puts away her brush.

"So what was the best place you were in?" she asks, diverting the conversation further from the depressing tones, picking up one of the two cats that push against her legs.

"Malta," Rickon answers, immediately. 

"Why?" 

He scratches the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. 

"Because Lyanna was there too."

Her sister rolls her eyes again, but it's an affectionate way now.

"Oh dear lord your smitten," Arya mutters, leading him inside the small house. Rickon lets it go unanswered as he follows her and sits by the table, taking the cup of tea Arya offers.

"So what do you do, just take care of this place?" he asks as Arya pours a cup for herself.

"I've been helping at the school for now."

"Can't really picture you as a teacher."

"No, me neither," Arya laughs, sitting down. "But they needed help and I can do it," she shrugs. "I'll look for something else later I guess, but I'll have to stay home for a while in the Autumn anyway."

She's rubbing her belly absent-mindedly and not for the first time since he came back Rickon thinks how weird it is to see Arya like this, married and about to have a child, calm in some new way.

"I thought you liked living in London."

"I did. But we needed to get away, have a little peace and quiet. Gendry especially but me too. We weren't planning on staying necessarily but then we saw this place."

"What do you even do here? There's nothing here… or near here."

All Rickon can see from the window is fields and some trees in the distance.

"We fix the house, go for walks on the fields. We keep busy."

"Ew, I don't need to hear that."

And just like that, Arya is the sister he remembers, chuckling into her tea with mirth in her eyes, and catching the half-eaten biscuit Rickon throws at her with no effort.

Their conversation stops as they see Gendry's truck driving up the driveway. Arya's husband walks straight in, leaning down to give her a kiss before giving Rickon his typical cautious smile. But it's easy to see he's a lot more relaxed here, in their own home with just the three of them there than he was at Winterfell.

"Ran into the roof guy," Gendry tells Arya, "He's had some cancelling, said he could come tomorrow but it would be good to have a third person with us, help us out."

"Well I'll be here after school."

Gendry shakes his head.

"No, you're not climbing to the roof and you are not lifting the tiles up either."

Gendry's huge hands move to Arya's waist, the other one sliding to cover her belly in a way that Rickon thinks is protective, as if it hadn't been clear why he was forbidding Arya from something they all know she normally would waste no time doing.

Rickon expects Arya to argue, tell Gendry she isn't planning on falling from the roof or anything like that, but to his surprise she doesn't, only purses her lips unhappily and huffs, making Gendry just smile wider and give her another kiss. And while she still offers her husband a pouting look as he pulls away, her own hand has moved to her belly too, fingers entwined with Gendry's.

They're so happy, he realises. There's something that's definitely different in her sister, something that makes her quiet at times, but she's happy too.

"I can come help you with the roof," he offers. Gendry looks at him surprised.

"You don't have to."

"Don't have anything else planned, that would at least get mom off my back for a day."

Arya studies him for a moment before turning to Gendry, tilting her head slightly. Whatever it is that passes between them seems to convince Gendry, because after a beat he just nods.

"Tomorrow at nine, then."

  
  
  


They walk around the garden for a bit more, Arya showing him the chickens and explaining what's around them in each direction.

"I still don't understand why you couldn't have taken one of dad's cottages," he tells her.

"Can you really imagine me and Gendry living in Winterfell? Right under mom's nose?" 

He lets his eyes wander around the wild garden, very different from the neatly kept one his mother is so proud of, the animals, the fields. And he must admit, it does fit Arya.

"No, I guess I can't." 

Arya nods, seeming to think her words before she says them.

"I don't think Lyanna would want to live there either." 

"Yeah, well, I don't know if she wants to live anywhere with me anymore," Rickon sighs. 

He walks to the old stone fence that's partly fallen down, dividing the garden from the fields. It really is peaceful here and he can see how that might have felt good for Arya and Gendry, but it does little to calm his own feelings. It's not the same, he thinks, hiding from the world in a place like this, if you are alone.

He hears Arya move to stand next to him. Her belly may be growing, but standing next to him she's as tiny as ever.

"Do you know how many times Gendry asked me to marry him?"

"He asked more than once?" he questions, surprised.

"I can't even tell you how many times he asked."

"So what made you say yes then?"

"I asked him, actually," Arya tells him smiling. "Or I guess I kind of just told him I wouldn't object anymore."

"Why did you, in the first place? Object, I mean."

"I just didn't feel like we needed to be married. I wanted to be Arya _Stark_ ," she emphasizes the last name.

"And now?"

"Now I want to be his family," Arya says.

"So it had nothing to do with mom?" he needs to ask.

"I did get tired of explaining it to everyone, but I also just realised it's not that big of a deal. I didn't really need us to get married but it makes some things easier and Gendry really wanted to because of the baby, so I thought I wouldn't mind."

It sounds so easy, when Arya says it. But it's different for him, and suddenly Rickon feels like maybe he doesn't want to talk about it with Arya.

But then again, he doesn't really know who he could talk about it, any of it. Or he does know, but the one person he feels like he could talk to is now the person he can't talk to.

Lyanna. He had carried the image of her, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her lips, he had carried all of those with him through all the years and battles, thinking it would all get better once he could just have her near him. 

He raises his eyes to the sky, looking at the birds flying across the blue, remembering how he had watched the birds long ago, before the war, when he had only dreamed of flying himself.

"Lyanna said we'd wait until I came back. But I'm back now, and —"

"And she's been waiting, not knowing if you were going to come back," Arya reminds him.

Rickon has a feeling he's being chastised, but somehow, Arya can do it in a way that angers him less than it would coming from someone else. Maybe it's the way she seems to really appreciate Lyanna.

"I don't really know her, but to me she seems like the kind of girl who has a lot of plans and dreams and things she wants to do, so I bet it was hard for her to just put her life on hold to wait for you. And she said she wanted to study, so she might not want to settle down just yet. I'm sure she's just feeling confused with all of this."

"But I never said we needed to settle down right away," he argues.

"Maybe you didn't but all those things mom said about kids and a house… That was a lot, don't you think?"

Rickon shrugs.

"That's just mom."

"You really don't see how it might have been a little intimidating for her to sit there with the entire family like that, when you two had barely had time to speak and mom starts going off about wedding arrangements and children?"

"Well I wasn't planning on having children next week!"

Arya rolls her eyes.

"Oh my god Rickon I'm pretty sure I don't have to explain it to you that you don't really need to plan the children. And don't act like it's not a possibility with you two, not with the way you are around her."

Rickon blushes. Arya might be the bluntest of the family but this is not the sort of conversation he's used to having with his sister.

"You're one to talk," he mutters.

"Exactly," Arya says, smirking, appearing totally unembarrassed. But she brushes his arm, her face turning into a more serious expression again.

"You just came back, you need to give her some time."

"But we've waited for years already, I don't want to wait anymore."

Arya's fist punches his arm so fast he's barely finished talking.

"What was that for?"

"You better not tell her you can't wait a few days, not after all that time she waited for you."

  
  
  


Arya walks with Rickon to his car and her huge hound runs ahead of them.

"It's okay to be a little lost right now. Why do you think Jon is in the highlands? Why do you think me and Gendry came here in the first place? We're all just getting used to it all. If you think any of us had it easy…" 

There's an unreadable expression on Arya's face, telling of something she doesn't want to speak of but he guesses it's among the reasons she's living in this secluded house. But she looks at the dog walking back to them from the field, her hand going to her middle once again and her mouth turns into a reassuring smile.

"I think mom and dad will understand it too, if you just tell them. They're not all that bad if you talk to them."

"What is this, you defending mom? Is this you turning old or something?"

Arya laughs.

"I promise you, I'll never agree with mom on a lot of things. And don't think all of this —" she gestures around her and her belly too "— has gone so smoothly as far as they are concerned. But I'm not renounced or anything."

Rickon sighs and Arya moves closer to squeeze his arm.

"Just have some faith, little brother. That girl waited for you, worried for you, kept calling Bran to ask if we'd heard anything. I'm pretty sure she won't give you up too easily."

Arya pulls him in for a quick sideways hug.

"And you'll get used to being back too, even if it might take some time."

Her voice is reassuring, like she knows what she's talking about, and Rickon guesses she does. It makes him feel better as he drives back home.

  
  
  


Rickon wakes up from the restless slumber he had fallen into sometime after midnight. He's still surrounded by the strange ambiance of his dream, the girl walking in front of him through a sunny field, her long brown hair blowing in the wind and tickling the tips of his fingers as he tries to reach it. 

It's a dream he has had many times, one where he can only see glimpses of her face as she turns around, walking backwards a couple of steps in front of him, smiling brightly at him before she turns around again, moving faster so he can't reach her. He remembers the same dream from many nights out there, somewhere in distant lands. But it had been the sound of airplane engines roaring that had woken him and as he sits up in his bed it takes him a moment to realise there are no planes here, he's in Winterfell and the sound was only in his sleep - just like the girl was, too.

He wishes his sister is right, that it will all work out somehow.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Lyanna doesn't call Rickon before she goes, doesn't dare to. As she drives to Winterfell she can only hope it's not in vain, that he's at home. She's in luck, as Bran answers the door, telling her he's outside in the garden somewhere.

"He just wanders around, he's been doing that a lot," Bran says. 

"Good to see you here, Lyanna," he calls after her.

Lyanna walks for a while, looking for Rickon, before she finds him near the orchard. He is standing with his back to her but he must hear her coming because he turns around, the expression on his face a clear evidence of his surprise.

She walks closer, her nerves beginning to get a hold of her, but the way his lips turn into a smile helps to calm her down.

She feels her own lips tugging up on their own accord. It's impossible to stop them when he's looking at her like that and also because she has missed him so much. It hasn't been too many days, but now as she steps closer to him it feels like every second of it was too much.

But she stops herself from getting too close, knowing the physical touch will drown out everything else, vanish every coherent thought from her head like it has always done with him. 

"How did you get here?" Rickon asks.

"Borrowed my mother's car. She wasn't going anywhere today and… Well, that's not important."

She stops. The transportation was not what she came in here to talk about.

"Wanted to have a quick getaway?" Rickon tries to joke but his attempt only makes them both cringe.

"No, of course not," she tells him, quickly, reaching for his hand. "Rickon, that's not… Of course not."

He looks at his feet, embarrassed.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"It's okay."

The need to just feel him is overwhelming, and she closes her eyes for a second, telling herself to calm down. When she opens them, Rickon is looking so nervous, like he's sure she's about to break his heart. He looks lost. It only makes her want to get closer to him even more, but she really needs to get everything said first or she thinks she might not be able to say it.

"I don't want to get married yet, and I don't want to have children anytime soon. I want to study, and I want to have my own career. I want to become a doctor, and that's going to take years and I don't think I could do it if I had children."

It comes out rushed and he's obviously unprepared, eyes wide and fixed on her, but she keeps going, like she rehearsed in her head.

"I will never be the sort of woman who will just stay home and take care of your house and your children. But I do want to have a family at some point, and I want to share my life with you. So if you can accept all of this then I do want to marry you Rickon, just not right away."

She feels out of breath, like she's just ran a marathon, but Rickon stands still for one more moment, just looking at her.

"That's it?" he asks, with an expression she can't read.

"That's it," she answers, feeling unsure but trying to keep her ground.

"Those are not terms, Lyanna." 

He's shaking his head, smiling. And he must see how confused she is, as he clarifies, "That's not something you need to ask me to accept."

He chuckles, that arrogant boy has the nerve to chuckle, and make her lose the last grasp of what's going on here.

"I can't say I had thought too much about when we'd get married or where we'd live or when we might have children but I know you and I…" 

He shakes his head again, pulling her closer to him and pressing his forehead to hers.

"All I want is you and I don't really care too much about how we do the rest of it."

She lets him nuzzle her cheek, her breath catching as she feels his hands flat and firm on her back, his lips brushing her skin near her ear.

"I don't know what I want to study or whether I want to settle here in Winterfell or in London or somewhere else but I know I want to figure it all out with you."

His words are a murmur against her face, barely there but she hears them, knows he means them as he keeps holding her like he doesn't ever want to let go and she can feel his heart beating against the hand she has rested on his chest.

"Just, let me figure it all out with you," he says. 

There in between the roses he kisses her, with the same passion he's always kissed her. Her fingers slide in his hair and he presses kisses all along her neck before he lowers them to the ground, pulling her down to lay on the grass with him, hiding them from everything and everyone.

"Rickon!" his mother's voice calls out. "Is that Lyanna's car? Where are you?" 

Rickon shows no sign of hearing except to lean down even lower, closer to her.

"We need to go." 

"Mother can wait. They can all wait." 

He moves his hand from her waist, brushing her thigh. 

"Rickon." 

She can hear how strained her voice is as she gently pushes him just a little bit off her. 

"They can wait," he mumbles. 

"No, that's not it." 

He scrunches his forehead, confused.

"What then?" 

"Do you think you could sneak me into your room?" 

His laughter is a low rumble, sending heat down to her core and when he looks at her his eyes are a mixture of warmth and want. 

"I can manage that." 


End file.
